Final Statement

Word of the Post: Arrivederci (Farewelll)

“When life offers you a dream so far beyond any of your expectations, it’s not reasonable to grieve when it comes to an end.”- Twilight-Stephanie Meyer

Playing college field hockey was absolutely a dream come true. I consider myself lucky to have had the opportunity that I had, to play with the teammates that I played with, play for the coaches that I played under, meet the people that I met, played in the games that I got to play in, see the schools I got to see. I was never the spotlight athlete in high school, and I was never seen as a field hockey player who would make it into a top tier school. Playing division 1 hockey after seeing only twenty-four seconds of varsity play time my freshman year of high school was beyond all expectations that I ever imagined.

So when that dream came to an end on April 14, I found myself grieving for a long time. But that was when my world was so small compared to what it is now. Now, I have actually seen the world. Now when I fly over a country, instead of walk or drive past a place, I can remember a time; a second, a minute, an hour, a day, even a month that I spent in a country. And I have no regrets.

The past three and a half months of my life were unexplainably, undeniably, unbelievable. I saw so many things, walked so many miles, met so many people, and learned more about myself than I ever have in my entire life because of this trip.

The truth is moments can either make us or break us. I let a moment break my last year. But not this time. This time the moments made me, and I made the most of those moments.

I want to thank you for joining me in my travels: seeing the places that I saw…reading my entries—both boring and entertaining, learning different Italian words, and opening my many emails throughout the semester. This semester was a blessing in disguise, and I am glad I had people to share it with. Now that I am back in the states, I have had to readjust. I slip at dinner and say grazie instead of thank you, and when I walk into a store I am taken back by how fast someone speaks English to me. Sometimes I think of how I am supposed to respond in Italian, and then realize the clerks are looking at me awaiting a response…I have been Romanized, and I hope that you feel a bit Romanized as well. It has truly been the adventure of a life time.

“Because of the routines we follow, we often forget that life is an ongoing adventure. We leave our homes for work, acting, and even believing that we will reach our destinations with no unusual event startling us out of our set expectations. The truth is we know nothing, not where our cars will fail or when our buses will stall, whether our places of employment will be there when we arrive, or whether, in fact, we ourselves will arrive whole and alive at the end of our journeys. Life is pure adventure.” -Maya Angelou

"Rome will collapse if I don't see you tomorrow"

Word of the Post: YIKES (YIKES)

When my friend Steph and I told eachother that Rome would collapse if we didn't see eachother today before leaving to go back to the states...we weren't serious. Apparently the father of rain took us seriously though, as rain has been pounding the city of Rome for days and nights now. Wednesday night I awoke to booms six times throughout the night. The next morning I woke up and proclaimed that their must have been an earthquake. On my way to school this week, I got hailed on twice. And last night when I came back from our apperitivo the Tiber River was the highest I had seen it since I came to Rome-and today the river was even higher. Forget it being the highest I have ever seen the river since being here...it is the highest the river has been in FORTY years.

Forget Alitalia strikes being the reason that I could have possibly not made it home tomorrow--The Tiber River could potentially burst its banks and flood the streets of Rome leaving us stranded in our apartment or causing us to be evacuated but to where?--Awesome.

One man died today trying to help another man with his flooded car. Two people died in other flooded parts of Italy through the course of the last few days as well.

This morning while we climbed the Cast of San'Angelo, we saw police men racing towards a bridge, so we raced towards an opening of the Cast, to watch why they were running. Then we saw why. A houseboat had been ripped from the bank upstream and had come downstream in the current...The water was raised so high on the arches so we anticipated the upcoming crash...People ran towards the bridge to watch as we peered from up above..."here it comes," ... "IMPACT." The crashing sound echoed up to us, and we were stunned. The three of us as well as other onlookers had our digital video cameras out catching all the action...None of us could believe what we had just seen. A house...that was a boat... had just crashed into a bridge. We went back home and told our housemates about it, and then went on with our day.

I went to see Steph -- so Rome shouldn't collapse. On my way back from visiting with Steph I looked out to the bridge to see if the remains of the boat house were still there... No the boat house was no longer there...but something now much bigger was two arches over--A ship, turned sideways attached to its dock.

The rain has slowed, and we haven't been evacuated (hopefully if we are--it is to the airport)...and now all we can do is wait--and watch as arches now shaped like mouths begin eating more structures and river debri...





For more news visit http://edition.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/europe/12/12/italy.bad.weather/

I hope he comes out Soccer positive....

Word of the Post: Giornale (Newspaper)

I like to keep up with the news on a day-to-day basis here. Some things are extremely over-written about: See articles on Economy, Elections, California Wildfires. And then there are some that are extremely wild...literally: See article on coyote found in Sears in Lower Nazareth, Pennsylvania...he would make a great mascot.

However, the latest news in my New York Times message box has revolved around the World News of: Athens, The Entertainment of: Twilight, and the Science News of: DNA testing to determine what sport your kid will be good at. My previous two posts were about the first two mentioned stories. Here is my post on DNA testing....

Freedom of choice. I always loved having this right in my family when I grew up. I love having the right to choose which party I will vote for, and the right to choose which vegetables I want to eat, but more than anything I have appreciated my right to choose which sports I want to play. Maybe I have been lucky to have parents who gave me that choice, or maybe I am just lucky that there was never a DNA test when I was little to tell me which sport that I should be enrolled in because it would be the one that I would excel in.

After reading the recent New York Times article, “Born to Run? Little Ones Get Test for Sports Gene,” I couldn’t help but laugh. Had my parents been able to have me tested to find out if I would be good at a certain sport or any sports for that matter, I think the test might have told them “couch potato.” I am not your ideal athlete. I am not petite, I don’t have the quickest feet, and my numbers during athletics testing never appear high. You see numbers mean nothing to me. If you put me in a game I have cat-like reflexes, I can get down the field hockey field quickly, I can read passes and see things develop, and I can step-up my game 110%. Maybe it is adrenaline or maybe it is skill, but nothing can test your ability like a real game, and that includes DNA testing.

It is one thing to test for a disease that may be treated; it’s another hedge your child’s sporting bet. It also raises another subject that has already been a concern: the elitism of contemporary youth sports. Not everyone will be able to afford such a test. Can you imagine the kids on the court mocking the others, “My test was basketball positive, yours wasn’t.” or “I got tested soccer positive, and you couldn’t even get a test…you suck.”

And as for the parents reactions. I can see the latest headlines now: “Father drowns son after DNA test.” The story to follow would read something like this: “On Monday afternoon, little Tommy was running around his backyard playing stickball with the neighbors. By Wednesday morning, Tommy was found in the river. On Tuesday, Tommy’s father, Tom Sr. brought his boy to the doctor because he wanted to make sure his son would be the football player that he had been in high school. The DNA test came back saying the exact opposite. The DNA test actually read: sorry Tom Sr. your son will be in the Nutcracker ballet one day. This drove Tom Sr. to throw little Tommy in the river.”

Then there is the idea of choice. Say little Tommy goes and gets his DNA test done and it tells Tom Sr. that his son will be a football star. Then Tom Sr. goes home and says to his son, “NO MORE STICKBALL,” tapes a football to his hands, and says you run back and forth across the yard with this, eight hours a day, because you are going to be a running back for the Packers one day. Little Tommy becomes tall Tommy who would be much better fitted for basketball but is sitting on the bench of the junior varsity football team because his dad never let him have the choice. Poor Tommy.

Of course this is an extreme case. I would hope no father would be mad enough to throw his son in the river, and I would hope that no father would tape a football to his son’s hands to a football (how would he eat, write, or read anyway?) But I think that DNA testing to determine what sport your kid will be best at is better off left undone. What if Michael Phelps parents had brought him to the doctor and they told him that he would be the fastest man alive, and the parents took that as if he would be the fastest track runner—not swimmer. Then we wouldn’t have our world record holder from the 2008 Olympics!

A mentor of mine told me she was very lucky to have the parents she did, because they let her choose her hobby of choice. She could have chosen finger painting if she wanted, but she chose field hockey. It was up to her to figure out what she was best at and do it, and she found that thing and she was great at it.

A friend of mine’s little brother is enrolled in every sport there is, and now his problem is that he doesn’t know which sport he will ever pick at the high school level because he just likes them all too much!

Last, a friend of mine was a natural swimmer, a state champion as a freshman, but will be going on to play field hockey at a Division 1 school instead of swimming because it is what she loves. And no DNA test can read what you will love.

The Twilight Zone

Word of the Post: Andare al Cinema (To go to the movies)

Irresistibly corny.

The last time I used those two words together, I was talking about an ‘N Sync Christmas album. This time I am talking about the latest sensation for teen girls and women nationwide, the movie, Twilight directed by Catherine Hardwicke. I am not one to give into the hype of book series. When I was younger, I read the Babysitter’s Club to make my mother happy, but I never really enjoyed it. When I got to the end of elementary school and began middle school, the new rage was the wizard, Harry Potter. I am proud to say that to this day, I have never read a Harry Potter book. The next series on everyone’s list was Lord of the Rings, and again I can proudly say that I have never picked up a Lord of the Rings book. Sure, last year I gave in and read Something Borrowed (Emily Giffin) followed by it’s sequel Something Blue, but I didn’t give in because it was the hype, I gave in because I hadn’t read a quality book since 1984 by George Orwell in my senior year of high school. Many Italians are chain smokers, but while I have been over here in Italy, us American students have been chain reading the Twilight series by Stephanie Meyer.

I have never been a fan of movies that have stemmed from books. My only exception to this rule has been the beloved David Fincher film, Fight Club. The Borrowers (1997) directed by Peter Hewitt was a let down, Pride and Prejudice (2005) directed by Joe Wright was a major let down, and needless to say Stuart Little (1999) directed by Rob Minkoff was the ultimate let down. I don’t really know what I was expecting walking into the new release of Twilight. I had an inkling of an idea as I read through the reviews posted in various newspapers, and as I heard friends in my program in Italy ranting about what they loved about the movie (mostly the male protagonist Edward played by Robert Pattinson) and what they hated about the movie (mostly the female protagonist Bella played by Kristen Stewart). But I had to go see it none-the-less, since even I gave in to the hype of the series to begin with.

And the only words that I can use to really describe the film are “irresistibly corny.” Maybe it is Edward’s changing eyes, or his cold pale skin, or his subtle grin, or maybe it is the random clever lines thrown in once in a while (especially right near the end of the movie) or the desire for the movie to slightly differ from the book in one particular way-which of course it could never do, that makes it so irresistible. But it is definitely the acting, the effects, the unforeseen gore, and the general dialogue that contributes to the corniness. Lines using the word “monkey,” and “buddy” come to mind.

The acting is below subpar, well at least on Stewart’s part, the special effects are elementary as the characters almost seem to be moving robotically when they are supposed to be moving faster. They leave out key scenes, and everyone who has read the book would know what I am talking about. Things that took 150 pages in the book to occur take only the first half-hour of the movie to occur, jumping from one thing to another with no middle explanation. I understand that with a 450 page book there have to be cuts somewhere, but did they really have to cut out some of the pieces that really stood out in the book? They even leave out the most romantic scenes, and take away from the ones that are supposed to be romantic throughout the movie. The only exception is the piano scene where Edward sits perfectly playing “Bella’s Lullaby” by Carter Burwell—which he is actually playing himself in the movie. The director has added scenes that never take place in the book, and the director has changed scenes, scenes that were better left untouched, but I guess that always happens in movies taken from books. Still, I wonder if Stephanie Meyer really had any say in the screenplay for the film that they adapted from her novel.

While most scenes were filled with previously mentioned corny lines and more, some scenes were played well, but I could just be biased—since I am a huge baseball fan and my favorite scene happens to be the baseball scene. Something about the music, the lighting, and the sound just all seem to come together in this one scene, as the family whips around the bases, the ball ricochets off of trees, and the lighting falls to a dull gray with colors faded into it. It is almost like a real family playing stickball in their backyard, and it is about as real as the family gets to being mortal.

Yet, while the movie still borders on a corny darker 21^st Century version of a Peter Pan (the immortal and his mortal girl), it is still irresistible in going to see—especially if you have read the also irresistibly corny book that doesn’t fail to also produce the same corny repetitive lines.

It’s like a guy with bad pick-up lines—you just keep falling for it, but yet you aren’t quite sure why.

I almost went to Athens this past weekend...

Word of the Post: Una Manifestazione (Student Riot/Student Strike/Protest)

My childhood best friend is currently studying in Athens, Greece. When I was making plans to travel this semester, Athens was on the top of my list. I figured that I would get to visit my friend, I would get to enjoy some sunshine, and I would get to see one of my favorite structures-The Parthenon. In October, I looked up flights to Athens from Rome and found one for $125 for this past weekend. It was our long weekend so I would have been able to go for approximately 5-6 days...I am a pretty spontaneous spender (at least my mom would say so), so I almost instantly took up the offer on the cheap flight. As far as I was concerned Athens would be my home for my final weekend in Europe. Then something clicked inside of me--I wanted to spend my last weekend in Europe, in the country that I had lived in for the entire semester. Thank god for that decision.

Apparently Italy is not the only European country that has student protests, riots, and strikes. Greece does too.

Currently, students are rioting like crazy in Greece. And I don't mean 1 million person strike like the one here where students marched through the streets. No, in Greece they are lighting things on fire, destroying hotels, setting off small bombs, and destroying things. It is madness, and I was supposed to be there this past weekend. I can only imagine what my mom would have been emailing me the entire weekend while I was there... "Are you okay?" "Has your hostile, or apartment been lit on fire" "Let me know when you are back in Rome safe." No worries Mom, I am safe and sound in my lovely Roman apartment. But I still worry about my friend who is seeing all of this out her Athens window...and to think I almost went to Athens this past weekend...

If you would like to read the assosicated press article:

http://www.mcall.com/news/nationworld/sns-ap-eu-greece-riots,0,5381314.story

A Few Roman Myths

Word of the Post: Bugie (Lies)

Before I came to Rome, I was told MANY things that I may encounter here. However, most of these things, I have no encountered, and this is the list of those things:

1. Small portions - I have had one small meal since I have been here, and that is because I cut it in half.

2. Baby throwers- I was told gypsies would throw babies at me to steal my money. I haven't encountered any baby throwers yet. I haven't seen a baby thrower yet. I haven't even seen a gypsie holding a baby--just many homeless people with dogs as their companions.

3. Bag stealers. Maybe I don't walk around by myself enough, or maybe I just keep a close enough eye on my purse--but I haven't encountered any of these, or seen any of these yet either. And the only vespa driver who even tried to reach for my bag was in the French Rivs, not Italy.

4. Spiderman- I don't see men scaling buildings to go in and steal everyones belongings.

5. A jeanless Rome- people wear jeans here.

6. They hate Americans- they actually like Americans--well the ones who like Obama at least.

7. Spaghetti and Meatballs- Sorry folks this is an American misconception. They never serve them together.

8. Fettucini Alfredo- They don't really know what alfredo sauce is.

9. They don't wear shorts- Not all of them do, but they don't NEVER wear shorts.

10. You can easily hop buses without a ticket- Not true, plenty of my friends have been busted and owed a 160 EURO fine.

11. Bread w/ Olive Oil- They don't dip, just us.

12. They don't drink to get drunk- OH YES...SOME OF THEM DO.

Things you may not have known about Rome...

Word of the Post: Io bisogno ti dire ( I need to tell you)

Here are all the things you may have never been told about Rome-Italy-and Italians.

1. A lot of the population have not been inside the Colosseum.
2. If Rome voted in our election, McCain wouldn't have even been on the radar at all.
3. Cups of coffee are miniature--food portions are not.
4. T-shirts are allowed.
5. The men selling random toys on the street don't know Italian.
6. Bargain deals--if a scarf is being sold for 8, you can normally get it down to 5.
7. Sandals are not a Roman thing.
8. Many churches actually lock their doors on Sundays.
9. Wifi sucks here.
10. Protests every day.
11. They listen to more American music than Italian (at least from what I have heard).
12. They play American music during their street protests.
13. Gyms are in basements and cost A LOT.
14. Rome is walkable.
15. It HAILS a lot.
16. Romans are never on time.
17. Bus drivers will stop mid route for a smoke break.
18. Never fly Alitalia.
19. Notebooks are expensive.
20. Postcards reach the US in a matter of days.

The Hill

Word of the Post: Foto (Photograph)

The following are pictures taken from the Capitol Hill Museum. Enjoy

Turkey day in a country where there is no turkey day

Word of the Post: Grazie (Thank you)

It seems the word of the post is only necessary since yesterday was Thanksgiving. This is the second year that I have been away for Thanksgiving. The last time I was away for Thanksgiving was my senior year of high school (which seems so long ago now) when I was playing at the National Field Hockey Festival in Florida--where Thanksgiving is of course celebrated. This year spending Thanksgiving away from home was different, because I am in a country where they barely know what Thanksgiving is. Heck, they didn't even know who was going to cook our turkey for us, because no one here knows how, and last night at the dinner, they didn't know how to cut it either! Oh well--it still tasted wonderful. All the food tasted wonderful actually, and if I want to use the word wonderful one more time, I could say that the whole night was wonderful.
We were treated to dinner on the roof of the Mariot hotel on Via Veneto--one of the most prestigious hotels and roads in all of Rome. One girls parents said "That is the street I had my honey moon on." The roof overlooked all of Rome, and dinner was held in the banquet hall leading out to the roof so that we could take a peak.
And of course there was the wonderful food that I already mentioned. Think Italian meets American. There was a whole arrangement of appetizers that ranged from spinach puffs to pizza. And then there were three main courses: Stuffed turkey with cranberry (so at least we would feel a little bit at home), Pasta with red sauce and cheese (because what is an Italian meal without pasta), and a PHENOMENAL entree of pumpkin risotto (at least we had pumpkin!). But the meal didn't stop there--we were also treated to an open bar of red wine, white wine and champagne. And following the entree, the center table was filled with dessert cakes including a fruit one, a coffeeish cake that you could drizzle your own chocolate sauce on, and a cream puff cake. It was one heck of a meal. Sure, I missed the green bean casserol topped with onion chips, the neverending bowl of stuffing, and the pumpkin pie from home--but I can't complain about the food set on our table. If Thanksgiving were a Roman Holiday--this was surely what a traditional Thanksgiving dinner would be.

In honor of Thanksgiving, I'll share some things that I am thankful for, starting with the most important (leaving out the clear obvious of family and friends) leading to the least:

1. In less than 55 days, we will have a new president.
2. The exchange rate falling for the Euro and the Dollar
3. My flat soled shoes that never get stuck in the cobblestone like my apartmentmates.
4. Gypsies who sell umbrellas when its pouring rain on you.
5. Open bars of wine at Thanksgiving dinners.
6. The International Food Store (for peanutbutter of course)
7. 1.5 Liter bottles of water
8. My awesome apartment in Italy
9. Drying racks for clothes (there are no dryers here) because when it pours rain like today, you have plenty of dry space for your wet clothes.
10. Bartenders who turn the top of my cappucino into a heart design.

Happy Thanksgiving

The Pantheon and the Neverending Divinities

Word of the Post: Propoganda (Propoganda)

I refer to the Pantheon as the Cloverfield monster of Rome. It is huge. It is in the middle of an area that it almost seems to topple. The columns in the front look like the jaws of some destroyer and when you see it, you just have to stop--even if you have seen it a thousand times. The differences between the Pantheon and the Cloverfield monster is that the Pantheon doesn't move and it's put there for good not evil purposes.

The Pantheon is my favorite structure, place, and piazza in Rome. It is great during the day, and it is great at night. Put simply, it is just great. I learned about the Pantheon last year in my Rhetoric class, but I never imagined getting to see it. It was just a lesson to me at that point, but now it means so much more to me. A group had done their WikiSpace on the Pantheon, and while I picked up some of what they were saying, I realized during my tour that there is so much to this piece, this piece of Propoganda. (I think it's time I write a book on the "Rhetoric of Rome" through it's use of propoganda because the whole city was built by the use of rhetoric). When our class first arrived to the Pantheon we stood out front and talked about the history of it. It was first built by Agrippa, ordered by Augustus who was his best friend. Augustus didn't put his name on anything because he wanted to be modest so people wouldn't think he was getting too cocky with his position (propoganda). Later on Hadrian redid the Pantheon, because a fire destroyed the original one, but the enscription on the top of the Pantheon reads that it was originally done by Agrippa, because Hadrian also wanted to be modest (more propoganda). Hadrian is interesting because he is the only emperor who was also an architect. He thought out every part of the Pantheon very carefully.

The front columns of the Pantheon are made of granite, and were shipped in. When the ships arrived with the columns, he had the ships destroyed because the people wouldn't think that they were good for the economy (hm more propganda). The floor that the columns stand on are patterned with circles and squares, and the entire inside is designed with circles and squares as well. The circles stand for nevernding divinity, and the squares stand for reality. the inside of the Pantheon has a dome, and leading up to the dome is another pattern of squares. The middle of the dome is kept open and never closes. When it rains, it rains inside the Pantheon, but Hadrian was smart. He inserted drains all around the Pantheon and built the floor on a slant so that the water leaks outside. Therefore, the Pantheon never floods. Hadrian used materials from four different places in order to build his Pantheon--and by using the materials from the four different places he was represeing the unity of the Empire (more propoganda).

The Pantheon is now a church, but it was originally built to hold scripts, and books, and as a purpose for philosophy. Hadrian used materials from four different places in order to build his Pantheon--and by using the materials from the four different places he was represeing the unity of the Empire (more propoganda). Last, Hadrian built arches into the sides of the Pantheon. This was to prevent the earthquakes from taking down the beautiful structure. The arches work to stop the shock from going through. This is why the Pantheon is still standing so beautifully today.

Whether you care about the history of the Pantheon, or it's propoganda, it doesn't mater, this site is just astonishing even if it almost seems like a monster sitting in the middle of Rome. I wish I could just pick up the monster and put in my backyard--but I don't think the neighbors would be happy.

A week in the life of a Tourist - I should write a book titled this

Word of the Post: touristo/a (Tourist)

I want to write one of those silly tourist books after this week...

When you read about big cities, and tell people you are heading to a huge city they suggest many sites to go out and see. If you tell people that you are heading to New York City, they tell you that you should check out Times Square or the Empire State building. If you tell people that you are heading to Paris, they tell you to check Eiffel Tower. Boston, go check out Fenway Park. Prague, check out the castle. Dublin, make sure you kiss the blarney stone. Florence, go see the David. And Rome- Make sure that you go see everything, so one week I took the time to go out and see many things that I hadn't had the opportunity to see yet.

The first stop on the tourist train was the Colosseum. Some people may want to punch me for saying this, but the Colosseum is not all that cool. The Colosseum is more amazing to see from the outside, and at night, rather than the inside in my opinion, and if you are going to go inside make sure you have a knowledgeable tour guide. Our teacher took us, so it was nice to have a guide, but if you go inside without anyone, its just a lot of pieces of stone put together, but you can't really figure out the meaning of any of it without a guide. For a little background information: The Colosseum was built by Vespacion who was the emperor following Nero. Nero was hated by the Romans, because he built a bunch of palaces by the Roman Forum, and since the Forum is the place for the public, the public hated it. Vespacion knocked down these palaces and built the Colosseum as a place of entertainment for the people (propaganda). Here the people could go (for free) and watch the gladiator battles. The stadium held between 50,000-80,000 people and the best seats were given to the people in the top class, but as started shortly ago, no one had to pay. Also, after all voting moved to the Senate building and away from the public area near where the Pantheon is, people would come to the Colosseum to hold protests, because here the people had a voice. Facts courtesty of my Rome Through the Ages class.

The next place on my tourist stop was the Callista Catacombs. In order to get here our group of people who decided to go had to walk along the Appian Way, which is pretty neat, but also feels like it is almost out in the middle of nowhere. When we got to the Catacombs eventually, we bought our tickets and went on a tour. Our tourguide brought us into a little room, and gave us a short lesson on the Catacombs and who was kept there which was many different people, from kids to Popes. We walked down into the Catacombs which served/still serve as tombs. Basically the Catacombs are just a maze of corpses. However, the floor we were on didn't house any corpses anymore, but down on the lower floors where the public can't go there are still full tombs. In one of the rooms we entered, we saw a preserved skeleton of a boy. It was pretty interesting, but creepy at the same time. No pictures were allowed here, but our tourguide walked away and said "If I don't see it, then they won't know you took the pictures."

Several days later, I took an afternoon to go visit several churches. I visited three. The three that I saw were: The Santa Maria in Piazza Minerva, St. Ignazius, and the Basilica Dei SS Ambrogio E Carlo. My favorite by far was St. I, but I liked each of the three for different reasons. I loved one section of the S. Maria that was done completely by Michaelangelo. The artwork was just amazing. St. I was great because it was just this giant church that you almost don't know what to do with yourself when you walk in. The altars were also just beautiful to put it simply. And the last one I enjoyed because I stumbled upon it accidentally while I was walking along Via Del Corso. I thought that I was done with my church tour for the day after those first two churches, but when I found this one I decided to pop in. It reminded me more of a reserved church, and it's location is just in the middle of Via Del Corso--the famed shopping street in Rome.

On the same day that i saw these churches, I finally saw the inside of the Pantheon. I went inside with my class. It is free, so I could have gone in many times before this, but I waited so that I could understand the ideas of the Pantheon, even though the inside is different now, from when it was first built. The Pantheon is my favorite place in Rome, so it is actually deserving of its own post, but a brief is that: It is incredible.

The last stop during my tourist week was the Vatican. My class was not scheduled to go see the Vatican Museum or St. Peter's Basillica or the Sistine Chapel, but another class was so I made sure that I could hop on to their tour. Besides, you can't come to Rome and NOT go see the Vatican. Sure, I had been in St. Peter's Square many times, but I hadn't taken the time to go inside anything quite yet. The class met at 9:00 AM sharp, and the tour began at 9:30. As we were walking in, the teacher told us that in order to see every room and go through everything that they have in the Vatican it would take 14 days and 14 nights. That is how big the Vatican and the museum is. Our teacher also told us how hard it is to become a tour guide. In order to become one, you have to take a 500 question MC test as well as do an essay about any art piece in ROME that they ask you about. You really gotta be on your game.

We started to head through the museum and we saw art by many artists.. We saw a huge marble statue of Hercules, and then the sculpture of the body of a man that had the definition of every muscle in the body. We saw a view of the Vatican Gardens, and we checked out a gorgeous piece of art by Caravaggio. We saw Davinci's unfinished painting, and then we checked out the Sistine Chapel. The Sistine Chapel is astonishing when you first walk in. The most interesting thing that I learned while going through here was about a painting on the ceiling. Our teacher pointed out a certain woman. The woman in the painting was almost beastly looking. She was big, had huge muscles on her arms, and not really and breasts painted into her. This painting was done by Michaelangelo. Michaelangelo was so interested in painting and sculpting guys, that he had no idea what a female body looked like, so when he painted one for the Chapel he gave her a guy's body and a woman's face. Following our tour of the Sistine chapel, we headed out of the Vatican and into St. Peter's Basillica. I had thought that St. I, was huge, but this really took the cake. Your breath is almost taken away when you walk into it. It doesn't matter what religion you are, what faith you believe in, or if you don't believe in anything at all, the place is just astonishing. There is artwork, sculpture, and many many altars. We saw Bernini's angels, and we even saw a mass going on. It was awesome. The only thing that we didn't get to do was climb to the top of the duomo, but that can be saved for another day.

So what do you think...should I spend my next two years of college writing a tourist book--Libs in Rome?

Ciao

The striking continues, Alitalia lowers my chances of ever coming home...ha

Word of the post: Pauro (Scared)

Every time that I turn a corner in Italy, I am faced with a thirty-six inch rifle. Every week, I arrive to school and at least one day out of my week I am faced with a blockade of police officers questioning who I am and where I am going.

No there aren't bomb threats all around Italy, and no there aren't cerial killers who have escaped from the jails. With how the police officers are dressed--in helmets with plastic covering their eyes, bullet proof vests, and their fingers on the triggers, you would think that there was a school shooting occuring. However, it is just a protest.

Just two weeks ago, there was over 200,000 person protest walking from Piazza Republica to Piazza Popolo. In the days prior to that protest, there were at least three days where our classes were disturbed by other protests walking down the street. These protests were all for the same reason--students being upset that the schools of Italy are cutting extra-curricular activities. There will be no more extra activities, and the students are very angry. Two weeks ago the hugeprotest was a combination of students and teachers from all parts of Italy. 1000's of buses came into Italy filled with the students and teachers, and the trains and metro system were filled as well.

These aren't the only protests and strikes that go on in Italy/are going on in Italy. Just this past Monday there was a public transportation strike. Less buses ran, the metro was off, and the tram service was non-existent for the day. This happens a lot. Our Rome Through the Ages teacher explained that it mostly happens on a Friday or Monday, because the Romans enjoy long weekends.

The strike that most worries me, however, is the Alitalia strike. On Monday, November 10, Alitalia declared a two hour strike that canceled at least a hundred flights. Over the last few days they have striked more, and they have canceled more flights. Parents of a friend visited this past weekend, and they were supposed to fly home on Monday through Alitalia. Their flight was canceled and they had to wait in a line at the airport for six hours for a new flight. The only good thing about that situation was that Alitalia refunded them their money. Alitalia has also announced a day long strike for November 25--A day before the most busy travel day of the year. The boyfriend of a friend in our group was supposed to travel that day by Alitalia, but he no longer is. Another boyfriend, of a friend in our group, was supposed to travel that week by Alitalia, but he has changed his flight. My apartmentmates were supposed to go to France this weekend through Alitalia, but have canceled their flight because they worry that even if their plane flew to France, that they wouldn't be able to catch a flight back, like other friends in our AIFS group who were stuck in Paris for a few extra days.

Several students, and myself are supposed to travel via Alitalia home on December 13. All those going back to the Boston area have an Alitalia flight, while five of us are flying Delta operated by Alitalia. December 13 hasn't been declared a day for a strike yet, however, Alitalia plans to have 15 random walkouts after their full day strike in November 25. Hopefully, unlucky number 13, December 13, won't be so unlucky for all of us trying to get back to America.

Only in Italy is There a Pizza Place in the Middle of Nowhere

Word of the post: Albero (tree)

My mom once told me the story of how she and my dad met. Simply put: She hitchiked. So when the opportunity came for me to hitchike on Saturday, I didn't think twice- hey maybe I could have met my future husband too?

Several weeks ago, Nino mentioned going to the shopping outlets outside of Rome. I thought that this would be a simple process, but it turned out to be an adventure of a day ending back in my apartment.

The outlets are 33 miles from my apartment, so we looked up the bus routes and hopped on the number 30 at 12:45 PM on Saturday. When the number 30 dropped us off 45 minutes later at the busstop for the 706, we ended up having to wait 20 minutes for the next bus. When the 706 dropped us off at our next stop, we waited an hour for the 704. When the 704 picked us up to bring us to our final stop ,where we expected to call a taxi, we realized we were going to be in trouble. When the 704 picked us up on the side of a 4 lane highway and headed off onto a dirt road with trees, we knew this was bad news. Ten minutes later we arrived at the final bus stop in Rome--which was surrounded by trees, grass, wood, and only in Italy--a pizza place. Fifty yards up we could see the expressway again--the four lane expressway. OUr directions had told us to get off at the last stop, and walk three miles. We walked in the pizza place, and the lady told us that the three mile walk was uncomfortable because it was either through woods, or on the expressway. We called several taxi services but their response was, "We are closed today," or "We don't come out there today," or "We can get you a taxi tonight." The last bus in the city drove away--and we were now stuck in the middle of no where. We had come so far, yet the final three miles were impossible to make. I then stuck out my thumb, and waited. We continued to wait. And then a man stopped. Nino ran up and talked to him in Italian, and he told us to get in. I thought about it for a moment, but when I realized the backseat had a baby seat--I made the executive decision that the guy wasn't some Texas Chainsaw murderer. Within 15 minutes we were at the nearest bus stop, which we then took to the nearest metro and hopped on to come home--emptyhanded.

Election Buzz with The Libs part Due

taken from: politicalhumor.about.com
http://politicalhumor.about.com/od/bushcartoons/ig/Bush-Cartoons/Bush-Years-Tribute.-UrK.htm

Word of the Post: Vincere (To Win)


Inside: A look at the historic election from Rome; Memorable moments of Obama's speech; Outstanding quote from McCain's speech

Today smiles were on Romans faces everywhere. Last night brought with it two victories.
1. Roma defeated Chelsea in a soccer match--one in which Roma was a complete underdog.
2. Obama won the election.

I didn't have an Obama shirt to represent my home country, but I however had a Roma shirt and that was good enough to get by with people saying hello to me all day long. People shouted "ROMA" at me all day long followed by "Ti piace Obama"--oh it was a day of smiles in Roma.

But instead of going off on how great it is that we now know who our vice president won't be in two months....I would like to point out how incredible this election was as a whole. I actually wish I had been at home for this. We all sat at our computers connected to terrible internet connections hitting refresh with each poll closing. I felt like people must have felt before televisions, when they had to hold the antennae up on their radio to hear the results through the static--that is kind of like what our internet connections are here.

And for the first time the McCain fans and the Obama fans here in Roma were joined together in one thing last night: The fight for a better America in this next term. Clearly, both candidates met politically on that ideal as well. I was lucky enough to read their speeches today, and I cannot even explain how I felt when I read both of their speeches.

Obama's speech not only drove me to tears, but rekindled my belief that things would go back on the fasttrack--if not today, or tomorrow, but someday for our country. The economy is low now, but it was low before, so it can bounce back. We are at war now, and though we can't pull out immediately, we can support. Not all people voted for Obama, but he isn't going to be president just for those who did, he is for all of us. I haven't had the opportunity to watch him say this, but I can imagine it was absolutely outsanding, with his confident bold voice, his ability to capture an audience with his eyes, and his powerful words. He is an astonishing speaker--and I look up to him for that.


Excerpt that I think best captures the essence of his speech:
"The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even in one term... I promise you, we as people will get there....There will be setbacks and false starts...we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers...Our union can be perfected. What we have already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow...This is our moment"


Last, the respect that McCain showed in his speech was just phenomenal as he states that before being a Republican or a Democrat, he is an American, and he supports the future of the country.

"Whatever our differences, we are fellow Americans. And please believe me when I say no association has ever meant more to me than that."

The Election Buzz With The Libs

Word of The Post: Stupido (Stupid)

"The last thing I ever wanted was to be alive when the three most powerful people on the whole planet would be named Bush, Dick and Colon."-Kurt Vonnegut

I thought that in dedication to my American roots I would write an entry that is relative to America today. Because it is election day, I have decided to write an entry about the election. I know many things about the election, but the most important thing that I know as of now is that after today we can be sure that the hands of America will no longer be in the hands of a Bush.

Instead of taking a serious look at the candidates, I have decided to take the time to write what I have heard, what I know, and what I really care about.

What I know:
1. You can't talk about politics with anyone in a serious manner without feeling like they are going to throw a dart through your forehead if you don't agree.
2. You can't talk to people who are not intelligent about politics or else you may feel the need to throw a dart through their heads.

With that being said:

What I have heard about Obama in the last week (All of these go with my number 2 of what I know about politics):
Obama is a muslim.
Obama is an Arab or an A-Rab
Obama wants to change the national language
Obama is the anti-christ
Obama was born in Kenya
Obama wants to take over the world
Obama will make the economy worst by long-term planning (But bush did a great job with his short-term plan)
Obama is gonna start the second holocaust and put all the Jews back into Concentration camps


What I KNOW about J Mcain
He is old.
He has bad taste in VP candidates
He should have picked my mom as his VP candidate (see article: "McCain Should Have Picked Me-by Carolyn Segal Morning Call http://mobile.mcall.com/news.jsp?key=168370&full=1&rc=null)

What I know about Biden
Not much

What I know about Palin
She doesn't know much.

Fat Kids Love Cake - Italians Love Looks - So Darn Magro

Words of the post: Stai facendo buono (You are doing well.)
Magro (Skinny)

The first word of the post is actually a phrase. The bike at the gym told me that I was doing well in Italian when I was riding it yesterday, and I thought it was funny…ha.

I would like to take the time to list why Italians are so darn skinny.

1. They walk everywhere. I don’t care that all they eat are carbs. They are simply just burning off every meal they eat ten minutes later when they walk home or to their next destination.
2. In the olden days, Italians had public bathrooms. When I say public bathrooms, I mean public bathrooms. They were out in the open, and people would use the bathroom right next to eachother without stalls or doors, just open space. I have hypothesized that Italians wanted to impress one another, and they never wanted to be the “fat kid” going to the bathroom, so instead they tried hard to remain skinny so not to be embarrassed using the bathroom.
3. The dancing that I experienced in Florence was quite the workout. If Italians do this a lot, it def contributes to their skinniness.
4. Public nudity still remains here. Unlike the ancient days, there are no public bathrooms, but the Italians still don’t mind being naked in public—like the gym bathrooms or changing rooms. They don’t mind just taking off their clothes, and why should they—they are ridiculously skinny.
5. Unlike the cheese at home, the cheese here isn’t processed, so it isn’t as bad for you. Therefore, even though they eat much more cheese than us—it doesn’t affect them the way it does us in the states.
6. Everyone here drinks coffee, which acts a metabolism stimulant; therefore everyone is speeding up their metabolism every day. Fast metabolism = smaller body.
7. It is hot here. But Italians don’t recognize heat because they still wear winter coats and scarves every day. I wear shorts and polos—and I still sweat. This means that when they are walking everywhere that they go, they must be swimming in pools under those layers that they are wearing unless they have cut air holes in all their clothes.
8. They eat three meals a day, not five, not 2, three, and they eat nothing else. There is no snacking for them throughout the day. A meal is a meal, and the hours between that are their hours to do other things. Snacks = an American thing, so inbetween lunch and dinner, places are clearly making all their money off of Americans and other tourists.
9. Their clothes, in the stores come in mini sizes. One store here only carries smalls. I haven’t figured out if all the clothes in the store are actually small or if they are just all labeled small, but still they care about their size clearly. Their larges are American mediums sometimes even American smalls, and their jeans are clearly made for tall slim Europeans. Their size 6 is an American size 2, so you know what that says their size 0 is—American Kid. Skinny jeans take on a new meaning here.
10. Fast food here doesn’t exist. If you get a panino, it’s bread, ham and mozz—or mozz and tomatos. It isn’t ham, mozz, tomato, lettuce, mayo, oil, pickle, ect. What you see is what you get. Oh—and it still tastes good.

An Apbieling experience

Word of the Post: Famoso (Famous)

There are dreams and then there are visions. A dream is a desire, but a vision is what you will become, a vision sees you where you belong and where you will be. In ten years, I see myself right back where I stood on the night of October 27, 2008—the red carpet. Bright lights. Loud music. Boys in tuxes. Big Names. My dream. When I arrived at the red carpet for the premiere of Easy Virtue, my breath was simply taken away.

To my right people were lined up awaiting the stars. To my left I could see the entrance to the red carpet, and in front of me was the E! backdrop for the upcoming interviews for the night. As I walked onto the red carpet for a glimpse at the set, I stopped and took a deep breath. This is where I belonged. This is where my future as a journalist, critic, and TV star would begin. I had no clue that three hours later I would be walking down the red carpet with one huge American star and one huge star from the UK—Jessica Biel and Ben Barnes. Biel would become the nicest celebrity that I have met to date.

The night was just outstanding. I felt like this is where I had belonged all my life. Just one night prior I had stood inside awaiting the stars of High School Musical 3 to arrive. It had been the High School Musical 3 Italian premier, and my first movie premier ever, but it didn’t compare to the Easy Virtue premier one bit.

Jaimie and I arrived three hours ahead of the scheduled red carpet run because I wanted to be sure that I would get a clear picture of Biel. Biel is obviously no Pitt, Jolie, or Cruise, but she is an actress that many of my good friends and I grew up with as the hit drama 7^th Heaven was around for many years of our lives. She also starred in one of my favorite baseball movies, Summer Catch. Having the opportunity to just see her in person would have been good enough for me.

Jaimie and I realized that we would be allowed to walk down the red carpet when she and Ben Barnes (Prince Caspian) came out for their debut. We began to guess what kind of dress she would be wearing. And during our three hour wait, we took a short walk on the carpet to get a picture in front of the E! stage, where we see ourselves one day.

Three hours later—it was time. We timed it so that we could get pictures of them on the red carpet, but so that we could walk down it when they were past the fans. We stepped on the red carpet and everything fell into place. Suddenly we were walking along side Barnes and Jaimie was talking to his mom telling her how much she liked her necklace. His mom responded, “I got it in Piazza Venezia.” We then asked Barnes if we could get a picture with him, and so we did. The next feat was to meet Biel, which wasn’t so simple. She was taking her time coming down the red carpet, and Jaimie and I were being asked to move along. Things were not looking good for us, until we found a stairwell along the carpet to hang out in…until Biel came down to right next to us. Then we slowly made our way back onto the red carpet, and I went up to shake her hand. I said, “You are a great actress-You’re an idol—We grew up with you.” Jaimie threw in, “7^th Heaven,” and we all got a good laugh. We asked if we could get a pic with her, and she smiled genuinely and said “Sure!” Before we could get the picture, her security guard tried to push us out of the way and Jessica yelled at him “I said it was fine!” She proved in that moment to be exactly the opposite of what all the Perez Hilton fans say she is—and I gained more respect for her than any celebrity that I have met yet.

The night ended with a viewing of the movie, which had one of the best opening scenes that I have scene in years, going from black and white to color, with just this magical appeal to it. However, Jaimie and I had so much adrenaline rushing through our bodies that we couldn’t even focus for more than twenty minutes, and we got up to leave.

When I was younger I used to go to concerts, and I would be so star struck. I was so surprised by the ability that I had to go up to this star and talk to her. Sure, my knees were shaking, and my palms may have gotten a little moist, but the whole night was just a note of where I belong. Whether I am on the baselines of a baseball field broadcasting or on the red carpet of a big movie premier, I know where I am supposed to be, and I can’t wait to get there.

Grandmothers Can Be the Craziest of All

Word of the Post: Zac Efron Italiano (The Italian Zac Efron)

Children screaming. Mom’s creeping. And grandmother’s pushing. This was clearly the High School Music 3 Red Carpet walk for the Italian premier.

I arrived at the Rome Film festival at 11:00 AM on Sunday October 26 to watch the photo call for actor Corbin Bleu and actress Ashlee Tisdale. When the photo call ended at noon, we left the cinema and saw people lined up along the red carpet. We assumed that someone would be coming out to walk the red carpet soon, so we asked a little girl who was waiting. She responded in Italian that she was waiting for Bleu and Tisdale to walk the red carpet at 4:30 PM. These kids were waiting for four and a half hours for their childhood idols.

It reminded me of my 8^th grade year of middle school. When I was thirteen-years-old I too had an obsession like these Italian kids. Only my obsession didn’t make one random red carpet walk in my city, they made several concert stops and mall signing stops in my region of the states. My obsession was Dream Street. My friends and I would line up, up to six hours before the mall signings, and deck ourselves out in face paint proclaiming our love for one of the members of the group. I knew from my Dream Street experiences that kids lining up four-and-a-half hours in advance could only mean many more would join in the coming hours.

So when I got to the red carpet at 3:30 for the 4:30 walk, I wasn’t surprised at all. Stacks of children were waiting outside the red carpet in hopes of getting an autograph, a picture, or at least a glimpse of who could be their favorite person in the world at that very moment. I knew I wouldn’t see anything from the side of the red carpet unless I started throwing some elbows at these kids who were barely up to my waist (and I am only 5 foot 2), so I headed inside to wait by the entrance which they would come in through.

With a half-hour to show-time, pre-red carpet events began. A choir of singers walked out onto the carpet wearing graduation outfits appropriately for the movie that would be ending with a graduation scene. Following the choir, out came the Italian Zac Efron. When I say the Italian Zac Efron—I mean the Italian Zac Efron. He sings the Efron songs from the HSM movies in Italian, he was nearly the same height, was thin, and had the same shaggy hair going on, however the voices were no match. Even still the little girls surrounding me began screaming and shoving. As he finished singing a song, he made his way to walk into the auditorium. To my left stood a mom who seemed star-struck as she got her digital camera ready for Jacopo Sarno (Mr. Italian Zac Efron). Behind me, I had a pamphlet nearing my face and poking me, almost causing a paper cut to my eye. I looked back and I saw a grandma shoving and waving the pamphlet that was going to cause me to have to wear a patch over my eye for the rest of my life possibly—and this was just the Italian Zac Efron. I began to worry what would happen when Miss Tisdale and Mr. Bleu walked in.

In my head I proclaimed that soon “Shit was going to hit the fan.” Sure enough, when Tisdale and Bleu entered the red carpet, it did indeed hit the fan. The pushing became worse, the pamphlets to my face increased, and I suddenly felt like I was stuck in a movie about a 20 year old girl being killed by a raging grandmother at the premier of a Disney movie. Sure guns and knives are scary, but they are nothing like those grandmas.

Tisdale and Bleu made their way into the auditorium and rushed through without stopping. I was lucky enough to get a picture, but of course Miss Tisdale’s eyes were shut. She must have been blinded by the thousands of digital cameras going off deafened by the encores of yelling children (and grandmas). Mr. Bleu gave a wave. Then the flood gates were opened, and the crowd rushed to give their tickets to enter the movie theatre.

Tisdale and Bleu introduced the film which they did in English, but would follow their introduction in Italian with English subtitles—probably because it was a movie for kids and not adults. Sarno walked into the theatre and girls began screaming again. He sat down to watch the movie with the crowd.

An hour-and-a-half later I found myself jetting out as the closing credits were about to come on. I went for the nearest exit, and realized I had just exited through a fire exit. Oh well, no problem. If I just kept walking down I would get out somehow. Then I realized standing in front of me with a private car was none other than the Italian Zac Efron. He had security standing next to him and I had my camera out as I approached him. I realized this was one-on-one, and was my first real one-on-one experience with a star without hundreds of fans screaming in the background. I didn’t even know who the guy was until two hours prior. I said “Scusi,” and his security guard shook his head no at me. “Un complimento,” I said, and Sarno turned around. I tried to make words in Italian but all that came out was a bunch of jibberish that didn’t sound like any language let alone Italian or English. I finally completed my thought by saying, “Io parlo Inglese.” He responded slowly, “I speak English too,” and laughed at me. Sheepishly I ended the night by telling him he has a great voice (even if it is no match for the real Efron) and best luck.

Then I walked away basking in the glory of meeting at least one star for the night—even if I couldn’t make out a word to him.

Sunday Night Lights

Word of the Post: Calcio (Soccer or Football)

Crowds. Vendors. Lights. Security. Players. Cheers. This was Sunday night football (European soccer).

On Sunday I experienced my first European soccer match. Roma was playing InterMilan. No sporting even that I have ever been to in the states compares to the game that I attended on Sunday.

When I walked into the stadium, chills went through me as I saw hundreds to thousands of fans gathering for the interleague match. Security checked my bag and asked if I had water on me. I responded no and wondered of all things why they would ask me if I had water on me. I wondered even more later why they asked me if I had water on me, when I took note of the opposing fans setting fires in their session. I couldn't bring water into the stadium, but fans could lights smoke bombs and fires. It is a totally different world over here.

We took our seats and I looked around. Unlike a baseball stadium fans were already standing and yelling back and forth at one another. The opposing team's fans were being guarded by security so that the Romans wouldn't jump them. The fans were intense, the energy level was ridiculously high, and the seats were a sea of maroon, yellow, and white. Everyone was ready for this game.

Everyone except the Roman players. Roma ended up losing the game 4-0, a huge disappointment even though they were playing one of the best teams.

The thing that I really enjoyed about the game was that it was all about the game, and not sideshows. When you go to sporting events in the states, at least professional events and even some college events, people are focused on catching the shirts that the mascots are shooting into the crowd, or the fan who gets to attempt a half-court shot at half-time. Not here. Here it is simply the game and that is it. No one cares about anything else, because nothing else is going on. Fans are there for the pure enjoyment of watching the game--something that I def. think has been lost in American competitions.

One other thing that I found awesome and hilarious was that near the end of the game there was an announcement that the visiting guests had to remain in their seats until security escorted them out for their safety--maybe they should start doing that with Boston fans at Yankees stadium.

After my first Roma game experience, I will def be rocking my Roma jersey and Roma scarf to a few games in hopes to catch a win, and if not a win--at least a laugh at crazy Roman fans.

"600,000 Kaboodle Please" A Weekend in Praha

Word of the Post: Preferita (Prefer)

Three months ago I had a list of several places I hoped to see while I was in Europe. I tried to narrow my list down to three, and when I got down to three I thought I was set. The list included Barcelona, Greece, and Switzerland. I have not been to any of those yet, but if I had to rewrite that list knowing what I know now, Prague would be at the top.

A week and a half ago six of us booked Prague on a lucky deal we found--and I wouldn't go back on the decision we made to come.

The people, the food, the architecture, the sites, and the travel couldn't have been anymore perfect. Not only were there several Starbucks (though I didn't give in to an American coffee), but there was also a castle, a concentration camp, an awesome hostel to stay in, and bohemian toast. I just wish I had more than one full day there.

I was surprised that I enjoyed Prague so much, because it hadn't even been a thought in my mind before coming here, but after our first dinner on Friday night I was convinced the trip was set for "amazingness."

Days before the trip I looked up information on the food in Prague. All the reviews I read were terrible, and I declared that I wouldn't be eating for an entire weekend. All the reviews were proved wrong after we sat down for a Czech dinner and received beef, dumplings, potato pancakes, and Bohemian toast. The following night was not disappointing either as I got pork, dumplings, sour kraut, and Bohemian toast--aka greatness.

Prague and Rome have several things in common: each have many bridges, each have a river running through the middle, an old city and a new city, great architecture, great food, and cobblestone. But on another scale they are completely different. Prague is much more modernized as bright lights fill streets, cars aren't all a different type of mini coop or fit, and night clubs can be found on roofs. The only thing that was different that really confused me was the money exchange there. Instead of using Euro in Prague, they use SK. Instead of paying for everything in increments of 1's or 10's, you pay for everything in increments of 100's. A dinner is about 250 SK, but that equals about 11 euro. I was at one point holding a 2000 dollar bill!

My favorite part of the trip was the river boat ride we went on Saturday night. I have now been on more boats in two weeks than I think I ever have been on in my entire life. But this boat ride was different. On this ride, we learned about the history of Prague, it's architecture, the bridges, buildings, and the food. We also saw a restaurant tha was being held up by a tree.

The trip came to an end with an awesome breakfast at a Bohemian restaurant just a few hours before our plane took off for Italy.

I try not to buy too many souveniors on trips--actually I normally don't buy any. But I enjoyed this trip so much that I had to buy a shirt. I now own a shirt that says "Czech Me Out." It was definently a necessity to my collection of T's.

Chef Libs

Word of the Post: Cucinare (To Cook)

My friends, my housemates from school, my apartmentmates in Rome, my brother, and my parents can all attest that I am no cook. When I came home from home ec class in 6th grade, I told my family all about the mini pizzas we had made that day. I was so excited that I told them I was going to make the mini pizzas for them. It ended up being a tragedy. I burned the mini pizzas. I never really tried to cook again after that. I can do soup on the stove and in the microwave. I can make macaroni and cheese. I can throw Ellios into the toaster oven. And I can make a grilled cheese sandwich.

At school, my housmates would cook the dinner and I would do the dishes, except for the nights when we just wanted soup and sandwiches. Then I had it covered.

So when I got to Rome one of my goals was to learn to cook. None-the-less the first week I found myself doing dishes and my roommates cooking dinner all over again.

That was until last night when Nino and I went to the grocery store and picked up pasta, onions, garlic, bread, parsley, pie, gelato, canned tomatos, cheese, basil, and several other items. Last night, Nino and I cooked a feast.

We made meatballs by rolling meat into egg, cheese, parsley, salt, and pepper.

We then made sauce by using the canned tomatos, onions, garlic, basil, salt, and pepper.

We also topped the baguette of bread with oil and parm cheese so that we could have a break from the usual garlic bread that people make with their dinners.

We mixed up a salad with oil and vinegar.

We put together an appetizer tray of artichoke, mozzerella, prosciutto, and bread.

And then we boiled water for 20 minutes before cooking pasta for the final piece to our meal.

We cooked a feast for four of us, and no one was dissappointed, just full.

For dessert we had blueberry pie with nocciola gelato.

I joked that I slaved all day trying to bake the blueberry pie, and I got a chorus of laughs--maybe next time Libs. I told Nino that it was hard to be Italian. They need hours to start dinner! We began making dinner at 5 and we didn't eat until 8! Patience is a virtue I had to remind myself.

So, now I am basically the next Rachel Ray.

Breakfast With the Pope

Word of the Post: Colazione (Breakfast)

Every year my brother and I go to Christmas mass with my family and my grandparents. Every year we sit there and observe everything that goes on. There is always the bass singer standing right behind us who is singing louder yet deeper than everyone else on Silent Night, and there is always the Priest that has a hard accent so it is hard to understand the Hail Mary.

There is always the choir of singers up in the left hand corner of the alter with young children who haven't had voice lessons yet, and there are always the people you haven't seen since the last Christmas mass. The observations are always relatively similar.

For the first time in several years my observations at a mass were completely different.

On Sunday morning, I woke up for breakfast with the Pope--and 50,000 others. When you live four blocks from the Vatican, it's easy to have to share your neighbor (the Pope) with many other people. So it wasn't really breakfast--it was really a canonization of four saints. I have never been in one spot where there were so many people from so many different cultures. There were Italians of course, but there were also people from France, London, India, Germany, and hundreds of other places.

The booklet for mass was almost 60 pages long. And it was filled with languages ranging from Latin, to Indian, to English, and of course to Italian.

Our group of people sat down about one fourth of a mile from the Pope. Just like at concerts, I had a huge problem seeing so I watched most of it up on the big screen hanging down in front of the Vatican. I tried to follow the booklet, but all I could do was tell where we were in Mass, until we got to the English part--then I understood every word.

Like Christmas mass, I had the louder than the normal singer standing behind me, each Priest had hard accents, and there were choirs of people--only this time they sounded astonishing compared to the glee club chorus at Christmas mass.

My friend went to say something to me, and I didn't even realize it. I was too busy being astounded by everything that was surrounding me. Mass was coming to an end and soon enough the peace offerings were coming. I realized that I would probably shake hands with people from 7 different countries, and I wouldn't know what to say to them except the good old English way of putting it, "Peace be with you."

Following our peace givings, we watched several Priests come out into the square. That is when we hopped into line to receive Communion. 50,000 people standing in Saint Peter's Square, and over half were looking to receive Communion. That's a lot of Jesus's body to be given!

We received our Communion and there was such a crowd that it was too difficult to head back to our seats. Three of us headed out and were just in disbelief of what had just occurred. We went to mass with the Pope, and received Communion in Saint Peter's Square--that is something to tell the grandkids one day.

Four white lines, two goalcages, hundreds of whistles...Feels like home

Word of the Post: Parlo italiano un po. (I speak only a little Italian)

The white lines. The goalcages. The whistles. The feel of sweat dripping down my face. The shadows formed by the lights cast over the field. It felt like home to me.

When I stop onto a field hockey field, I am immediately content with every single part of my life. When the lights are on for night practice or night matches, I begin to bubble. When the pitch is soft and quick, a smile remains on my face. And when the lines are perfect, I get even a little bit more tingly inside.

The last time I walked onto a hockey field to play was in August at Drexel. The last time I walked onto a hockey field at all was to coach my high school team three days before I left for Rome. It was a long enough period of time away from the good ole pitch to miss it.

Last night, I was home again. Nerves flowed through me, and my heart was literally racing. As I hopped on the metro for my first practice, I began to think to myself, "What if these girls don't like me?" "What if they kick my butt?" "What if I can't understand them?" "What if I am not in good enough shape?" "What if I am not welcome?" As all these questions entered my mind, I began to think about heading back to my apartment. It had been such an easy twenty minute metro ride there, and it could be just as easy of a twenty minute metro ride home. But instead, I stayed and waited for my ride to the field to pick me up. I had waited for this day every since I received an email telling me there would be a team for me to play on, back in July.

When the two girls who were picking me up arrived, the one immediately began talking to me in Italian. Very quickly, I said, "No lo so, Io parlo italiano un po. Parlo Inglese." And then the girl giggled as we got in the car. She said to me, "Io parlo Inglese un po." We attempted to have a conversation on the way to the field, but it didn't work so well. It was still fun to try. We arrived at the field and the team had to first watch a short presentation. It reminded me of the presentations that we had back in high school on our senior nights. They had a slide show and several people make speeches.

We then headed outside.

When I stepped onto the field, I flashed back to all the times I have stepped onto a field hockey field. The feeling that cast upon me, was similar to the one that a child would feel after seeing his or her parents for the first time in months. I took in all my surroundings. This field felt like a masterpiece in comparison to the URI field hockey field.

The lights were bright, the pitch was smooth, and the lines were perfect. I was home.

I snapped out of my astonishment and began to put on my shinnies and turfs. No one really talked to me or took notice that I was there at first, but right before the warm up run, I introduced myself to everyone. I said, "Ciao, mi chiamo Libby, sono American." Then everyone gave me their name, but I can at this point only rememeber two! I feel bad but I was so overwhelemed that I couldn't think straight.

I learned that our coach is from Argentina, most of the girls are Italian, one is from Holland, and another is from Spain. Some were 25 and some were younger than me. It was a very mixed team.

Some of the girls knew a little English, many did not, so that was difficult.

We took our warm-up run, stretched, and we did agilities. When we finished that and were standing around one of the girls came up to me. In Italian she asked me how many years have you been playing hockey for? I told her 7-8 years. Her next question was "Are you good?"

I laughed. I didn't know what to say, because I didn't know how I would compare to them. I didn't know if they were all really good or not. I went with the safe answer and said "cosi cosi" which in English means "so-so". They laughed and said okay.

We then immediately went into a drill. The coach explained the drill, but it was all in Italian so I did not understand a word. I just tried to follow what the players were doing.

After twenty minutes of splitting into two groups for drills, we were put into two teams for a 6 v 6 scrimmage. This was my chance to really go hard and see how I compared.

We began to play and it felt great until I realized that the words "back, flat, through, go, right, left, and center," don't work in Italian. I kept having to say "come si dice back" "come si dice right" "come si dice left?" But still, I played well and I had so much fun--now I am just really sore.

It was also fun to watch some of the other girls play. Some of them are very very fast, and some of them hit very very hard. It was a great first experience with an Italian field hockey team.

Most of all it just felt amazing to be back on that field.

Food of the World

Word of the Post: Cibo (Food)

When I made the decision to go to Rome at the beginning of the summer, I thought about all the monuments I would see, all the cities I would get to travel to, and all the people I would meet. It wasn’t until a month after my decision that I realized I was going to be in the country that produces my favorite type of food. So this summer I saved plenty of room in my body so that I could taste test several hundred types of food while I traveled through the pasta capitol of the world.

Before coming to Italy there are several things I never had any interest in. I’ve never liked mushrooms, and I have never liked eggplant. Since coming here, I am a changed person. Mushrooms are now almost on everything or in everything that I eat, and eggplant is one of my new favorite dishes.

I have decided to go ahead and make a top 10 list of the foods thus far:

10. Lemon chicken with Pasta
9. Drinks: Cappucino and White Wine (all kinds)
8. Octopus Salad- Naples
7. Risotto- Lance made the best mushroom risotto for dinner last week.
6. Nocciola- Hazlenut Gelato- From the Gelateria by the Pantheon. Absolutely delicious.
5. Napoli Pizza with zucchini and mushroom- Naples
4. Zucchini Ravioli- Naples
3. Rabbit- France
2. Eggplant Parm – Florence
1. Lasagna – Florence


Now some of these sounds like great things that you could get in the States, but I just think everything tastes better here. If I had made a top 11 list, fruit would be right there too. And if I had made a top 12 list, the cereal here would be right there. I believe I told Courtney that she had to come to Rome because she loves cereal and the Special K, Rice Krispies, and Fruit Fitness here are phenomenal in comparison to the cereals back at home, and I have no idea why.

Things I haven’t liked
1. A panino on white bread
2. Fake gelato
3. Cup of Coffee in Pompeii

Things you should know about real Italian food:
1. They don’t have fettuccini alfredo
2. They have spaghetti, and they have meatballs, but they don’t make them together. It is two separate meals.

Next on the list of things to try is Tripe, but we will see if I can stomach that one.